


love dog

by Rroselavy



Category: Yugioh
Genre: M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-06
Updated: 2010-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-09 23:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rroselavy/pseuds/Rroselavy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To protect his family, Jounouchi Katsuya works as a prostitute in a teahouse. When Kaiba Seto happens upon the blond in his new vocation, he becomes determined once and for all to put the blond in his place. Neither man is prepared for the fallout from the power exchange of their sexual liaisons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love dog

He forces me to look at His face when He fucks me. If He catches me with my eyes closed or my head turned, there is hell to pay.

For one, He will refuse to pay the fee, and then Haha will take it out on my hide. The last time He refused to pay, I was punished for a week. My body shudders involuntarily at the thought. Spending seven days confined in a training cage and being fed like a dog is an effective obedience tool.

"That's it, inu," He croons cruelly, as He impales me. "I am your master now." His velvet voice serves as a gentle contrast to the abuse He metes out on my body.

He is right though. I am His, and His alone, as long as He continues to pay a retainer fee to the teahouse. No one else is allowed to touch me, although I am still called on to train new slaves every now and again.

I should be grateful. I am getting on in years, and the tastes of the clientele here run toward the underage or those who can act the part. Until He found me my position was precarious at best, and I'd been relegated to attending to the guests with more ... exotic tastes. *snort* That's a euphemism for the ones who tend to push a slave's limits. It's a good thing I have such a high tolerance for pain--and Haha keeps a close eye on all of His boys--no permanent disfiguring is tolerated.

My eyes are locked on the depths of His arctic blues. I'd like to think He does this because He sees me as somewhat equal to Him, but that's a laugh. We were never equals. I was always His dog in His mind, suitable only to sit at His feet, and now that is exactly the reality of my situation. I am only allowed to look into His eyes when He fucks me. Any other time mine meet with His is bad news indeed. My ass tingles and my face blushes in embarrassment as I remember the public caning He gave me the last time He caught me glancing at Him. Bringing myself back to the present, I read the little tics of the muscles in His face, and despite being completely grossed out at knowing Him so intimately, I can see that He's close to coming. That knowledge sends thrilling shivers down my spine that pool low in my gut, and despite the fact that I hate Him, I am excited that I turn Him on, that I can make Him feel that way. I can't deny the small sense of power that I enjoy as I feel His control slipping. He comes inside me with a harsh nip to my throat, which He follows up on by greedily suckling at the bruised skin. He is allowed to mark me, because He has bought that right. Until He tires of me and moves on, He owns me. My stomach turns when I think about that.

He grabs me roughly by the hair and assaults my mouth. I know that if I am a good pet, He'll let me come, finally. I haven't been good enough lately--though it seems that He keeps changing the rules of this game--and after our last appointment He'd ordered me not to come for ten days. Ten days of hell. Now I lay as passively as I can, letting Him violate my mouth as His hand ghosts over my encased erection. He fingers my swollen anus and smirks at the way my body involuntarily arches against Him, but I clamp my mouth shut. He likes to hear me beg, but the last time we were together I made the mistake of speaking before He said it was okay. For that indiscretion I paid dearly; I was displayed chained on my hands and knees in the punishment cage for two days. It was totally humiliating to hear the other boys and guests talk about me and ... fondle me. And to top it off, I'd been blindfolded, so I couldn't even see who my tormentors were. I hate the fact that any of the guests could have had their dirty hands on me, and I have no idea which of them did. And I'm sure a couple of the slaves did, even among the outcasts there is a hierarchy, and because of the status being owned by Him gives me, I'm hated by them all.

"Good boy. You're learning." He nods to himself smugly. God I want to beat that evil grin off of His face, but He is the only thing that keeps me safe from hustling on the streets. Or worse, and too much is dependent on me being able to please Him. I think about my sister, safe for the time being, and my old man, slowly dying as his liver fails him. I do this for them, I keep telling myself, as if that will make it more bearable. The fact that my Master doesn't know exactly how much I need Him, does nothing other than serve to further my humiliation. I am at the complete mercy of a heartless bastard.

I feel like I am about to explode from need when His fingers dance over the engorged head of my cock. It alone is unsheathed, and because of that, has become ten timse more sensitive to His touch. My breathing is reduced to shuddering gasps as I force myself to lie still with every ounce of willpower I can find inside me. I'm tied up and helpless, my ankles doubled-back and bound to my thighs, my arms handcuffed at the wrists and stretched over my head, and my cock would be jutting straight up in the air if it wasn't sheathed in the reinforced leather cock ring that He favors, one that flattens it against my stomach. If He loosens the restraint before He gives me the green light, I'm dead; He'll be able to torture me at will. I block out that terrifying thought, and instead I think about how much He's enjoying His ownership of me.

"Nothing to say?"

I shake my head warily. If He knows how desperate I am, He will make me wait longer.

"You haven't been cheating, have you?" God help me, He's tormenting me with His feather-light touches. "You haven't come since I was here last?" I shake my head. It has been nothing short of torture, but I've abided by the law that He laid down. Haha can back me up on it, as He held the key to the chastity belt my Master fitted me with. He teases one nipple and then the other with His tongue and teeth, and my mouth begins watering from need. He glances back at my face and I can see the disappointment flit across His features; He was hoping that I'd committed some infraction so that He could punish me again. Too bad, ya sick fuck.

"Do you want to come?"

I nod my head once, decisively.

"That's too bad, because I really don't think you've been sufficiently punished for your behavior from last time." He says in my ear lightly. He enjoys making me suffer. I stifle a sob, and manage not to look away. If I make it out of this appointment with good behavior ... then maybe next time ... a tear of humiliation manages to slip from one eye. I can't believe that I've been reduced to this. I'm worse than the dog He calls me.

"Eyes down." He orders roughly, and the tears that had been welling in the corners of my eyes fall freely. I want to cry, to wail like a baby at the unfairness of it all, I don't deserve this, and I would rather it be anyone other than Him who had this power over me. But that's a lie. There have been others before Him, and they treated me much worse than this. It's just that they didn't know I had a name, a life, they only saw me as an object. He knows me all too well, and uses that against me even as He fucks my brains out. Bastard. Something soft brushes my cheek and it takes me a moment to realize that it's His tongue lapping up the wetness. He owns even my tears, I think miserably, and that thought opens the floodgates; they flow freely now. "Beg me." He says huskily. "Tell me what you want, and perhaps I'll give you what you need."

I pull myself from the pity party and think about what He's asking for a few moments. This is some kind of a test, I know it. If I say that I want Him let me to come, I know that He'll deny me.

We're engaged in another game, but only He knows the rules. "Master," I begin, my voice wavering softly. "I want to suck Your cock. Please Master," I say sweetly despite the bile from that admission rising in my throat.

He laughs, but the sound is devoid of its usual derisiveness. "Is that so? I'm not ready yet."

"I want to make You hard again." I lower my voice to a husky whisper. "I want to taste You."

"You little slut." He chides without malice. "What you really want is for me to suck you off."

"No!" I lie. "No, I want to give You head." I gasp, because his accusation has set off a flood of images in my head of our roles reversed, and now I can barely concentrate, the sensation of my dick being encased in the moist heat of His mouth is palpable. "I want to feel Your velvety skin under my tongue. Please, Master." This is so wrong, my brain tells me. I despise every thing about Him, but I need ... release.

"Very well," He concurs. I feel him unfasten the restraints that bind my ankles and thighs, and then my wrists are lowered. "Roll over and get on your knees."

I do as I'm told, and am quickly re-tied with my wrists to ankles. The position is uncomfortable, but I'm used to that. In fact, considering some of the positions I've suffered tonight, it's downright luxurious. Five fucking star. He's semi-erect already when my lips brush over the satiny crown of His shaft. I taste the salty metallic of His come as I take Him in until my nose is buried in His pubic hair. I feel His cock come alive under my tongue and I suck for all I'm worth. He stifles a moan and crushes my head into His groin as my teeth scrape along His length. Good thing I no longer have a gag reflex; one of my many debatable talents. He's fucking me in the mouth as much as I'm blowing Him, and it is violent and hot at the same time. I don't know when it came about that I liked it rough, but damned if I'm not ready to explode when His come hits the back of my throat. He releases my head and pushes me backwards. I'm in an awkward position, but He's beyond caring, if He ever did at all. I notice through the fringe of my eyelashes that His face is flushed with lust as His fingers work the intricate buckles of the cock restraint. At any other time the manhandling of my sex would hurt like a motherfucker, but all I can focus on is my need to control my release. I don't want to think of how I will be punished if I don't hang on until He gives me the word.

He stops suddenly as He frees my cock. Of course He is sated, so now He can torture me some more, but the gods must be smiling on me because He lays down beside me, and as His hand touches my chest He whispers into my ear the word I've been waiting to hear for hours.

"Come." His fingers have found one of my nipples, and He rolls it gently between thumb and forefinger. Despite my wishing otherwise, He's an adept lover, and in our time together He's become the complete Master of my body. He knows how to elicit responses from it, and often uses that knowledge to test my ability to control myself. Much like He used to taunt me when we were at school, or when we dueled.

I do so, violently. My seed splashes my body and I feel flecks of semen land on my face. He snickers in my ear softly and licks its shell, but He allows me to bask in my orgasm. At the moment, I think it is the greatest gift I've ever been given. I'm crying again, but these tears are ones of happiness and relief. I was good enough. I earned my reward. I will leave the ramifications of why I should be so overjoyed by those thoughts to torture myself with later. I only know now that I haven't felt this worthy, this happy in months.

He rolls away from me and off the bed with catlike grace, and I relax as best I can for the moment, suddenly aware of the padding of the mattress, and the incredibly soft sheets caressing my body. I'm not allowed in a bed unless I'm with a guest, and because of His status we are in the nicest room the teahouse offers. It would be heaven to be allowed to sleep here, but for all I know He is getting ready to leave, and I'll be returned to my cell and the mat that serves as my bed, or He will stay the night and force me to sleep on the floor like the dog that I am to Him. Still, to stay here with Him would be better than being sent back to my cold room. I hear Him drawing water into the deep tub in the corner of the room and my heart skips a beat. He's planning on staying a while longer, which means it will be sometime before I have to leave the opulent appointments of this room, and be returned to the solitude of my own thoughts.

I close my eyes, ignoring the fact that I'm trussed like a sacrificial pig, and pretend that I am in some swanky hotel room in some far off land--an exotic island with the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows a beach stretching outside to the horizon. The actual vista I can see from this room when I open my eyes is that of a lovely private garden. It's late winter, and I can see the cherry tree twigs are plump with buds. My eyes flutter closed again as I think about basking in the sun on the beach of my imaginary island.

"You are not falling asleep." The words cut through my reverie and my eyes pop open in alarm to His face hovering inches above mine. Shit. I look away immediately and He rolls me roughly onto my side. Deft fingers release the bindings; my limbs are unwieldy and numb. Faintly, I sense that He is rubbing the feeling back into them. My head is spinning; I'm totally confused. I can't understand any kindness He offers me. I'm on edge; it's far easier to accept His cruelty than ... this. After a while, when He is sure that the feeling has returned to my limbs, He gets up and pads away from me, I gaze at His back, eyes sliding appreciatively over His perfect ass. He is drop-dead gorgeous, with a body to die for, and I know for a fact that several of the other boys have flaunted their wares in front of Him in an effort to steal Him from me. I need to be careful, or I might end up with a blade between my ribs. This place can be more cutthroat than Hirutani and the Rintama boys ever were.

I should be proud that He's chosen me. He could have anyone in the world, certainly there are prettier, more obedient boys in this teahouse, but there is a nagging thought that gnaws on the frayed ruins of my self-esteem. It taunts me, tells me that He chose me so that He could embarrass me completely; continue His torment of my psyche that started from the day we first met. He slips into the tub and I avert my eyes before He completely turns around and catches me. "Come." He says again, and I, like the obedient dog that I am, crawl across the floor and to the tub.

"Good boy," He says absently. He pets my head, and I feel the heat from a blush of humiliation staining my cheeks. His fingers curl around the collar fastened around my neck and He pulls me forward. I know what He wants and I climb into the tub. He pulls me against him until I'm sitting in His lap, my back against his chest. I feel his cock harden beneath my ass and He lifts me up and seats me on It. Kaiba Seto is an insatiable sex machine I think as His hips roll once again in an all-too-familiar rhythm.

The water alleviates the pain of my chafed skin and aching muscles. Although we are expected to keep clean here, a bath is an obscene luxury. I'm hard again in seconds, the abstinence of the past ten days coming back to bite me in the ass. I lean back against Him, by now I've come to realize that He doesn't demand too much from His fuck toy, just a level of willingness. He traps both my wrists with one hand and I gasp in surprise when elegant fingers wrap around my shaft and He begins to pump me in rhythm, but I refrain from any vocalizations; I'm still not out of the woods yet. The power He holds over me is utterly sickening.

Just before I can come, He lets me go and pitches me forward; I grab desperately for the edge of the tub and cling to it. If I fell face-first into the water, I wonder if He'd bother stopping, or would He just keep fucking me until I drowned. I don't have too much time to think about that because at this angle, He's found my prostate and suddenly I'm blinded by the white heat that is spreading through my body from my groin. I grind my teeth as I lose control, the ecstasy of coming again tempered by the knowledge that He hasn't given me the green light. My body stiffens involuntarily. He's still pounding me with abandon when He whispers in my ear, "You naughty dog, you came." I bow my head in shame, but He licks my ear soothingly. "It's okay, Jounouchi."

I gulp hard and once again my head is spinning. In all of the transactions we've had here at the teahouse, He's never once called me by my name. I try to make sense of this new development as I feel His rhythm change. He comes again, I think for the fourth or fifth time this evening, and then collapses on top of me.

After a few moments, He slips out of the tub. I remain there laying motionless, still frightened that I will be punished for my indiscretion. I listen to the rustling of the towel that He uses to dry Himself off, hear Him rub it through His hair. These are such intimate actions, and yet there is no affection in what we share, what He does to me. But then again, I cannot picture Him in any other way. The only time I've ever seen any hint of His humanity, anything besides His snide remarks and insults, is in His dealings with Mokuba. As my thoughts turn to the young teen, I wonder what he would think if he knew what his big brother was doing with me.

Thinking about Mokuba is dangerous, because it reminds me of my old friends. I have to stop myself from dwelling on them and the past. When I do, it only reminds me of how hopelessly lost I've become. I thought that this would only be temporary, but I know better now. As long as I'm a moneymaker they will keep me here, and the deck is stacked-I'll never be able to earn enough to pay back what my old man owes with interest. And when I'm no longer any use to them, his creditors, well let's just say that I have my own exit planned for that occasion. I close my eyes and concentrate on the soothing effect the water has on my tired mind and body.

I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up sputtering water.

"You really are a silly mutt. Let the water out and come out of there now." He laughs mirthlessly. He envelops me in a soft bath towel and dries my body thoroughly. He wraps the towel around me tightly and steps away. I can't see where He's gone off to, but I hear the flip-flop of His slippered feet as He returns. "Here, put this on. I want you to wear this the next time I see you."

I glance up at what He is holding in front of me, a golden silk kimono. I know without touching it that it is probably the softest thing I've ever owned. But I don't own it, He does, I think darkly. He unfurls it and waits for me expectantly. I let the towel drop and allow him to dress me-His little china doll. He fusses with the opening for a moment, and then ties the sash snugly around my waist. It is whisper-soft against my skin. I hear Him climb into the huge bed and stand there, not knowing what He wants from me. "Are you just going to stand there all night?" He asks, some annoyance evident in His voice.

I stand still, afraid to say anything; He hasn't given me permission to speak. I'm so close to escaping this evening without so much as committing an infraction-well there was the tub incident-that I can taste it. After a few moments of feeling His eyes burn through me, He sighs audibly then says simply, "Come to bed." I drop to all fours, but before I can crawl, He hisses, "Not on your knees, baka, you'll destroy the kimono." I get up, I imagine gracelessly, and make my way to the bed. He lifts the covers to let me in, and then spoons my body with His, His arms wrapping around me possessively.

I listen to His breathing even out as He falls asleep, and ponder the fundamental shift in our relationship that has occurred tonight, before drifting off to sleep myself.

*****

I wake up again, and this time I'm alone in the dimly lit room. I have no idea how long I've been asleep. I lay my hand on the mattress next to me; it's still warm where He'd been laying. I feel empty and used up, like a Kleenex; He's taken what He wanted from me and now He's abandoned me. I'm angry that that thought makes me feel sad. Of course, I was only imagining that things had changed between us! I know that I'm nothing but His whore. I hear the door open and the soft rustling of someone approaching me. Instantly I'm alert and tense.

"Katsuya-kun?" A soft voice implores, and I relax. It's Tomoki, another boy who's become my charge since I rescued him from a brutal client. Now, whenever he can, he stays near me, following me around like a puppy. I roll over slowly, my muscles ache and I'm so damned tired. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you-"

"I'm fine, Tomi." My voice is hoarse from disuse. He crawls onto the bed and lies down next to me, nestling his head under my chin and pressing his body the length of mine. No, Tomoki's more like a cat, in need of affection and a warm lap to sleep in, I think, as I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer. It doesn't feel bad to be needed this way.

"Haha told me to come get you. The room needs to be readied for another guest." So much for sleeping on a nice comfortable mattress; I stretch lazily before slipping out of the bed and hear him gasp. "Your kimono is so beautiful," he says wistfully. "I wish that someone would give me gifts like that."

"Be careful what you wish for, Tomi. You might get more than what you bargained for," I warn. I look deeply into his green eyes. His angelic face is feathered by fine straight red hair, I shudder inwardly; he reminds me of Shizuka, and I think that is why I chose to be his savior that night. I don't think about what I saved him for, because life here isn't worth much to begin with. But I would hate to see him hurt again like he was that night. At the time, his client-some bastard Yakuza, was beating him senseless. The goon had definitely crossed the line for acceptable actions that Haha instituted, but none of the other boys would lift a finger to help Tomoki, even though his fearful screams echoed throughout the teahouse.

Haha had been called away on an emergency, and He'd left me in charge-I suppose I should feel honored or something by that. One of the other boys had taken sick and needed to be brought to the hospital; Haha would trust no one else with that errand, He knows what the likelihood is that one of us would actually return after being granted such freedom--so there was no one for me to turn to for help. What I walked in on was indescribably bad, and I'm still amazed that Tomi is alive, let alone physically okay after the condition I found him in. There really is no depth to the depravity of the human mind, it is only limited by what someone can afford to pay, and the torture that had been inflicted on Tomi that night before the beating began turned my stomach every time I thought about it. I didn't know how bad he'd been abused until much later, when he was finally able to talk about it. If I'd known it then, I probably wouldn't have stopped while that poor excuse for a human was still alive. As it was, when I kicked open the door and saw Tomoki's bound, bloody body being clumsily flayed by a cat o' nine tails in the inept hands of his client, I lost it completely, and all the rage that I'd thought I'd left behind when I walked away from Hirutani and his gang of yakuza-in-training flowed through me. After I'd beaten the hell out of the guy and used his own whip a couple of times on him for good measure-heh heh, I showed him just what a tool like that could do in talented hands-I thought for sure I would lose my life. I was handcuffed by one of our guards, the prick-he'd probably been paid off by the guest not to interfere-and left in a punishment cage to await Haha's return. At least someone had the sense to start treating Tomi. I thought Haha would punish me severely, or hand me over to the gang, which for me meant certain torture and a painful death, but instead, He protected me. I never thought that he held any power over the Yakuza who run this town, but that night, if it hadn't been for Haha, I surely would be dead. Even though He's a sick bastard, I owe Him one for that.

I pick up all the toys my Master used on me earlier and slip them into a satchel. He's left me no instruction about the chastity belt, and I hope that He's forgotten to leave word with Haha about it. Tomoki shadows me as I head to the Master's office, where my fate will be sealed until He comes to visit me again. Fear creeps through my body when the word 'if' echoes in my head, I have to stop thinking that way, and concentrate on ... making Him want me more. As dirty as that thought makes me feel, I also feel a stirring in my loins as the sensation of His hands exploring my body washes over me. I disgust myself sometimes.

Haha is waiting for me in the library, and I enter, eyes downcast, but mindful of the expensive kimono, I don't fall to my knees, but rather wait patiently to be recognized. Haha is extraordinarily handsome, His jet-black hair is combed back neatly; the only times I've ever seen it out of place has been when He's exerted Himself in doling out punishments. His black eyes are sharp and full of keen intelligence; He insists that we all speak properly and are well-educated. It is important to Haha that we are able to converse with our guests, even though that is the last thing on their minds. In His opinion, it is what sets this teahouse apart from our competitors. I'm privy to all of this because He's taken a liking to me, though I suspect He would discard me the second I've lived past my usefulness here. Everyone must pull their weight here, or they disappear.

Haha has a terrible temper, and yet he is the epitome of control, always impeccably groomed and dressed. He will roll up his starched shirtsleeves carefully before taking the whip to one of the boys. I don't think I will ever be able to watch a man unbutton his cuffs and roll up his sleeves without an initial feeling of fear and trepidation. He's a sick fuck, too. The fact that He demands to be called Haha-the endearment for mother-by all of his boys, when He is neither motherly nor feminine in the least, only scratches the surface. No tool is beneath him when it comes to managing the minds and bodies of the boys He has been charged with, though I'd be the first to say, that above all, He is fair. But He will just as easily torment His target psychologically as physically, though He's never punished anyone that I know of without warning or thorough documentation of the transgressions that led up to disciplinary action. But He does have a sadistic streak that I know of firsthand; He gets off on others' pain, and especially if they enjoy the pain He inflicts as well.

"Katsuya," He says, and His voice is soothing, like velvet against my skin. "Come sit next to me." I do as He commands, and He pulls me into his lap. I forgot to mention that He's deceptively strong. I rest my head against His shoulder, I'm not afraid of Him touching me, but I am resigned to it. He kneads my lower back and we stay like that for a few moments before He speaks again. I'd just about drifted off to sleep. "Your master was very happy with your services tonight. He's left no punishment, only instructions for you to read this book."

He hands me a slim black volume, the front of the leather-bound cover inscribed in gold letters. Thus Spoke Zarathustra, I read, and I remember that it was the book He was reading the day we met Him in school. I look up at Haha, puzzled, and He waves His hands in dismissal. "It is not your place to question, only to follow your master's instructions." I sigh deeply; I used to hate reading but since coming here, I've been working my way through the library that Haha keeps; I would rather read about someone else's problems than dwell on my own.

"Katsuya-kun," he says softly, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Haha never uses -kun, unless He is extremely pissed, or has bad news. "Your father's condition has worsened." He falls silent then.

"How much money?" I ask after a while.

He shakes his head. "You need to let him go."

"He's the only family I have!" My voice has a panicked edge to it. If I lose him, then I've lost all reason for being here. Then there will only be the debt, and I will just be a common whore working it off. As long as my dad is alive, I can cling to the illusion of my noble cause. "I can't just let him die! Why won't you help me!?!"

He slaps me hard. "Just this once, I will forgive your transgression because of the news, but be careful, Katsuya, remember to whom you are speaking." He warns softly. I shiver involuntarily. "If it means that much to you, ask your Master for the money."

"No-He'll never help me." I say miserably. My cheek is smarting from the force of his hand. I'm sure there will be a read welt in its shape on it. "Why aren't the treatments working?" I wonder out loud.

"Because your father never received them, Katsuya. He gambled away the money you gave him instead of seeking treatment. The father that you love so much, who suggested you come work for me-"

"He didn't know," I say feebly.

"When he knew what this place was, who I am and what we do here-" Haha continues, and I cover my ears, not caring that I'm behaving like a child; I can't bear to hear what I know he's about to say.

He pulls my hands away easily, and turns my chin, forcing me to look at Him. "Instead of choosing life, he chose to drink and gamble himself into further debt. Even the yakuza refuse to take his wagers now."

"He can't help it," I gasp. "He's sick." My world is collapsing around my ears as I contemplate the mounting debt, double-digit interest accruing weekly; I wasn't good in math back in highschool, but I know enough that I will never be able to work it off now. Tears fall from my eyes, but I don't care that He sees them. Haha has seen me cry before; He's made me cry on many an occasion during my training.

"You'd be surprised to find out just what Kaiba Seto would do for you." Haha says cryptically. The significance of His naming my Master doesn't dawn on me until much later; here in the teahouse we never mention guests by name. Haha holds me tightly and allows me to sob like a baby on His shoulder. When I'm done crying, He pushes me out of his lap and changes the subject. "Tomoki needs a Master," He says blandly, "and I would like you to see to his training."

I stiffen at the thought. I don't want to be Tomi's trainer; to inflict pain and pleasure on his body; to own him heart and soul. Or do I? Suddenly the thought of owning him, in the same way that He owns me, and all the power that comes with it, sends a thrill down my spine. And I can't deny the way Tomi makes me feel when he curls up next to me. But I'm filled with apprehension. What will He think when he finds out? My head is filled with conflicting thoughts, I should be sad that my father is dying, but as I sort the feelings out, I realize that I'm more than a little relieved, and that makes me feel guilty. But the reality is that he's been my charge since I was barely out of my teens, and his inability to care for himself put me in this position.

"His training is to begin immediately," Haha continues. Of course, I never had a choice in the matter. "I think you will both learn from the experience. Do you have anything to say, Katsuya? I would imagine that you might have a few questions."

"What will happen when my Master finds out?" I ask with some trepidation. "He has never been one to share, and in order for me to properly train Tomoki, I will need to take him."

"This transaction is teahouse internal business, and should not interfere with your commitment to your client. His moratorium on your sexual intercourse only extends to you being penetrated, specifically by guests, or, on occasion, attaining orgasm. If he finds out that you are Tomoki's master, we will work out a suitable arrangement." It never occurred to me that I wouldn't need to tell Him about Tomi.

"Katsuya," Haha continues, "Tomoki needs a gentle but firm hand; he will not trust anyone but you. If this doesn't work, he will be of no use to me."

"What will happen to him then?"

Haha waves His hand dismissively and smiles. His row of even teeth remind me of a shark's grin, and I shudder again. "Don't worry about that, focus on the task at hand." He produces a collar and leash from one of His pockets, not unlike the one that was used during my early training. "You are free to go, but don't forget the reading assignment, I expect you to be ready to converse with your master on the finer points of the book the next time he comes to see you."

I glare at the book that I've been holding as if it were the source of all my misery. Seeing my expression, Haha laughs. "You can learn a lot from that book, Katsuya. It's a brilliant philosophical treatise."

I want to ask Haha how He came to know so much, and yet ended up running a whorehouse, but I bite back my words. All in all, the evening has gone well for me, and I'd hate it if my mouth got me in trouble at this late stage. I nod vaguely, my mind already contemplating all the things that I've been given permission to do to Tomoki.

I find him asleep, curled on his mat, a thin blanket pulled around his body. I strip the blanket off, and he wakes up, eyes wide in fear. When he sees it's me, he calms down. I dangle the leash in front of him.

"Haha says you're mine now." I squat down next to him, searching for a reaction in his sea green eyes. The genuine smile he beams at me is disconcerting; he's happy that I've been named his master. I can't help but feel the thrill of arousal as I slip the collar around his neck. He's mine to do what I please with, and it is a heady thought. I could fuck him right now, but knowing what he's been through holds me back. Instead, I tug gently but firmly on the leash. "Let's go, from now on, you're gonna stay with me." I say, before leading him back to my cell.

*****

Kaiba Seto is insatiable, I think, as He takes me for the third time. His hands trace over my chest, brushing lightly over my nipples, which are each trapped between two parallel chords. It is a delicious sensation-the tightness of the ropes pressing them into erection, and sensitizing them to any touch. I arch my back, hoping that He gets my less-than subtle message, even though He's not obliged to tend to my needs. He grins down at me, a genuine smile gracing His sweat-soaked face, which translates into an involuntary twitch in my cock, and then proceeds to lightly fondle them until I writhe involuntarily from the heightening arousal. I've not been allowed to come, and my cock stands engorged and purple between us, itself confined in a triangle of intricately tied ropes. At this moment, I can fantasize that I'm not His whore-that He isn't fucking me, but rather we are making love, and that He, not Haha, has prepared me by tying my body up in the intricate bindings of the Shibari style. He tongues one nub that He has been worrying, and I gasp from the sensation; waves of electricity tingle along my nerve endings. God He can make me feel things that I never imagined. A gentle breeze rustles through the branches above us, and I feel petals skating over my exposed skin; the cherry blossoms in the garden are just past their peak, and they snow down upon us. I feel His climax building inside me, and His thrusts become erratic as He pumps into me and then collapses on top of me. There is comfort in His full weight pressing down on me, pressing the worry out of my body. I feel attached and wanted.

"Did you read the books I left for you?" He whispers in my ear as His hand ghosts over my cock. I nod my head, my throat suddenly dry. He deftly loosens the cock ring, restoring some of the blood flow, and I strain not to come.

"Tell me what you thought." I pant as He takes my cock in His hand and squeezes. "Tell me about the books, if you want come," He purrs, and if I wasn't so desperate for release, I would find this strange kink hilarious. We're not in high school after all. But I want to come. Badly. And He is willing to service me, so despite how much I profess to hate Him, the idea of the mighty Kaiba Seto jacking off the lowly Jounouchi Katsuya is more than enough of a reason to comply.

It's been six weeks since we were last together, and besides Thus Spoke Zarasuthra, He's sent over The Prince, and The Red and the Black. Two weeks for each book was enough time to read through them a couple of times. His ministrations prove too much, and as coherently as I can, while he is doing intensely erotic things to me, I tell him what I thought of each volume; Nietzsche's was by far the most disturbing, while I found The Prince extremely cynical, and The Red and the Black incredibly sad. One hand strokes my cock in earnest, and with the other He removes the cock ring. I come violently over His fingers, and He holds them to my lips.

"Lick them clean," He orders, and I do, quickly swallowing the salty fluid, trying not to linger on how gross I think it is. But then He is kissing me, His tongue examining every dip and crevice in my mouth; His heady taste fills my mouth, and I ache for more. He loosens the knot on my bindings, and the ropes fall away. I feel His cock harden against me, and then suddenly His weight is gone, He's removed Himself to the nearby bench. "Look at what you've done, you little slut, I'm hard again." He waits for me expectantly.

My ass screams at the thought of being fucked again, but I catch His wicked grin, and the hungered expression on His face is intoxicating. I find that I want to please Him. I push aside the thought of how disgusting that is, and instead, as I crawl towards him, I picture how utterly breathtaking it is to watch Tomi in this position; his fuckable body swaying lasciviously as he crawls towards me. I wonder if I look half as good as he does, and I'm rewarded by a low groan from my Master. Evidently, I please Him. I smile to myself; it dawns on me that I do have some power in this relationship. I think about how good it feels when I'm with Tomi; when he obeys me; when he attacks his tasks with relish. He has given himself over to me body and mind; he trusts me completely, which is something I've never wholeheartedly been able to do with Him. I merely go through the motions of being His, but I've never totally given in, maybe if I did, I wouldn't feel so empty when He leaves. But then I waiver. How can I ever trust Him? He despises me.

And yet, when I encase His cock with my lips and feel His pulse race along its length, I know He doesn't hate that. He threads His fingers through my hair, but refrains from thrusting, allowing me to work over His shaft with abandon. He makes the most erotic noises as I lick over the crown and dip my tongue into the slit and taste the copious pre-cum that has pooled there, I feel His cock twitch, and can tell that He is close to coming. When He does, I swallow eagerly, and then sit back on my knees, waiting patiently for His next command. I'm semi-erect again, and I try desperately to avoid thoughts that will fully arouse me, but I crave his contact. After a few minutes of silence, I wriggle my way into His lap and nestle my head under His chin. I know that it is a gamble, and first He does nothing, then I feel His body stiffen, and I tense, fully expecting to be dumped on my ass. But then He sighs and wraps His arms around me. In His haste to fuck me, He hadn't bothered to undress, but with the rare opportunity being afforded me, I realize that I want to slide my hand over His naked skin. Tentatively I fuss at His open collar, pushing it aside so that I can lay my head next to my hand on His bared breastbone. He hugs me tighter, and though initially it feels awkward, I'm comforted by it; I nestle closer, listening to the even thump-thump of his heartbeat, slowly drifting off to sleep.

I'm awakened by the vibration of His cellphone. "Fucking hell," He swears, and I realize that He was actually enjoying the interlude, or rather, enjoying it enough that the phone call is an unwanted interruption. "I've been tied to that fucking company for weeks, and they can't leave me the hell alone for one afternoon?" He asks rhetorically. Of course they can't I think, He's always been the heart and soul of Kaiba Corp. He nudges me. "I need to take this." I move to get off His lap as He extracts the offensive device from His pocket, but He stops me. "It'll only be a minute-What is it?" He barks into the receiver.

I pick up the kimono, shrug it on, and tie it loosely, before padding over to the koi pond that is the centerpiece of the garden. I worry at a small tear in the seam of the garment; he'd manhandled it trying to get it off me. After trussing me, Haha had draped it over my body, and the knot He'd tied in the obi had given my Master some trouble. I'm sure that He will replace it; I don't think that He likes His things sullied.

I sit down at the water's edge and stare at the koi that swim aimlessly about in their prison, waiting to be fed. We are not so unalike I think; I spend most of my time wandering aimlessly about the private rooms of the teahouse, waiting for my Master. Although, training Tomi has proven to be a lovely distraction for me, and my reading assignments have also served me well in passing the time. I hear His voice rise above the white noise of the small waterfall that feeds into the pond; He's pissed and I'm relieved that I'm not the object of His ire. He lowers His voice again and I turn my attention back to the colorful fish; I'm so engrossed that I jump when I feel His hands on my shoulders. He gives them a cursory kneading and then says, "Come on, I've ordered lunch for us, and it's arrived."

Two bento boxes have magically appeared on the blanket that we'd occupied earlier. At least it's not teahouse fare; lately I've had a hard time eating meals. As if He's read my mind, He comments dryly, "Don't they feed you enough here? You're too thin."

I'm at a loss for words, so I stare down at my food. Should I tell him that I've been worrying myself sick over my father's deteriorating condition? That the last time I saw him, he accused me of being happy that he is dying; told me that he knew I couldn't wait to be rid of him. Or what about the threats to my sister that Haha relayed to me?

"Jounouchi, eat." He commands softly. "You must be hungry ..." His voice trails off and I look at Him expectantly and catch something in His expression. Embarrassment? I pick up my chopsticks and obediently begin to eat. The food is delicious, and I polish off the contents of the box quickly. I look over at His; He's laid His chopsticks down. "You can have the rest." He pushes the box towards me.

"Thank you," I say softly, then quickly add, "Master." He sighs audibly, and from the corner of my eye, I watch Him run His elegant hands through His hair.

"Don't call me that." He says finally, and coldness washes over me. Is He rejecting me? I put the chopsticks down; suddenly I'm no longer hungry. "What's the matter?" He asks with annoyance.

"I've made you mad." I say, eyes locked on the ground. I feel His fingertips under my chin, and He tilts my head up until my eyes meet His.

"No you haven't." I know that He's lying. He sighs again and then changes the subject. "Tell me more about the books I left for you." He picks up my chopsticks and offers me a slice of negimaki. He feeds me, and in between bites we discuss the themes and plots of each of the books. I'd been amazed to actually read the book from which came the quote "God is dead," but it was completely disturbing to read about the concept of the 'ubermensch,' a race superior to humans that we are supposed to evolve into; it reminded me of what the Nazis tried to do in Germany.

"Then it shouldn't surprise you that Hitler looked upon this book as inspiration."

"That's just so fucked up."

"Well, I don't think Nietzsche intended it to be a blueprint for the Holocaust." He dismisses. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what is happening. We are talking, having a conversation ... as if we are friends. There's something terribly wrong and poignant. I think that He must be very lonely. But I can't feel sorry for Him. After all, He will leave me here and go live His life, fully knowing that I wait, at His beck and call. I need to refocus my thoughts before I allow my anger to burn through; it doesn't pay to be angry here. I should be grateful for the small charity that He gives me.

We move on to The Prince, and then the box is empty; He lays the chopsticks down once again. "Come over here." He orders, and He seats me between His legs, my back against His chest. "You must be sore," He whispers in my ear. I nod my head, even though I know that admission might make what comes worse for me. "And yet, you're hard," He remarks casually as He rubs His hand against my erection. I gasp at the sensual touch-my body is so tuned to His ministrations now-and then His other hand has loosened the obi, and He is toying with my nipples again. "Tell me how much you want me to touch you here," He whispers, squeezing my cock. I buck against him.

"Please, don't stop," I whine breathily. At this point, I'm past caring; I'll grovel at His feet if I have to.

He expertly strokes the length of my cock and chuckles in my ear. "Keep talking," He teases. "About the books." God, He is one fucked-up piece of work I think, but what He's doing to me drives all coherent thought about that out of my mind, and instead I try to focus my thoughts on the last book. It is a Herculaean task. He's certainly inventive in His methods of torment.

I tell him that I feel bad for Julien Sorel, the protagonist of The Red and the Black; I don't think he deserved to be betrayed and then subsequently executed.

"He made his own bed," He replies cryptically, as He speeds up His strokes. I wonder if that is how He sees my situation, and slowly I come to realize that His words bear a fundamental truth. I can't blame my father for this situation that I'm in anymore; it was my choice; I could have, should have, walked away from him and his impossible addictions. But I didn't, and now I've only myself to blame for the position I'm in.

"That's true," I say tentatively, and as I feel my climax building I gasp, "but it doesn't make it any less tragic." He nods His head against my shoulder, and then nibbles on my earlobe, and that small action pushes me over the edge. I come again over His hand. He picks up a linen napkin and carefully wipes both of His hands clean.

He looks at His watch. "I need to be going soon. I thought I'd have more time." Yeah, more time to fuck me, I think. I feel His erection pressing against the crack of my ass. "Do you still have your deck?"

I freeze. I hadn't thought about my deck since ... since my father sold it out from under me. I shake my head.

"That's too bad ..." He muses. "What happened to it?" I don't want to talk about this. It's too painful, humiliating. He tilts my chin up. "I know how much your cards meant to you Jounouchi, I can't believe that you just get rid of them." I wonder then how much He knows about my situation. I wouldn't put it past Him to have researched it all so that He could use it against me at an opportune moment, just when I'd started to believe that things ... could be different between us. "Well?" He persists.

"My dad sold them," I blurt, and I feel hot tears leak down my cheeks. Happy now? I wait for Him to chide me or ridicule me.

Instead, He says, "I'm sorry to hear that," and I'm left to wonder exactly what the point of that exchange was. Before I can ask Him, He's gotten up. "I'm going away on business. You won't see me for a while," He says, rearranging His clothes to their meticulous drape. I wonder how much extra He pays for such miraculous fabrics; there's nary a wrinkle to them. He turns back to me, His expression unreadable. "Try not to miss me too much."

*****

I feel out of place and uncomfortable in my new suit, and the shoes hurt my feet. I'm sitting in the front row at my father's wake, flanked by Tomoki and Haha. He's instructed me to tell anyone who asks that He is my uncle, and that I will be staying with Him for a while. I don't want to see anyone I know, but that is impossible to avoid. Shizuka and my mother will not be here; and though I miss my sister desperately, I know it's for the best; the further away she is from me, and Domino City, the better off she is. I wonder idly if my mother forbade her to attend the funeral because she still despised my father, or because she knows what has become of me. Well, she never expected me to amount to much. I'm glad I've managed to confirm her worldview.

The funeral has cost Haha a small fortune, and though math certainly wasn't my strong suit in high school, lately I've become quite the numbers-cruncher and I'm able to compile my father's debt calculated with the simple interest accruing on the fly. Comparatively, this expenditure is a drop in the bucket. I'm numb; the only sensation I feel is Tomi's hand covering mine. The heat of that contact reminds me of how lucky I am to have him in my life. When I gaze at my father's wasted body, I know that I should feel grief, but I can only manage a vague sense of betrayal. I can't even muster relief, because at this point I don't care how much he suffered; he chose to squander the money I made for him to get well on more booze and gambling; threw it away, just like he did me. So when his cremated remains are buried, I will turn my back on him once and for all, even though I've shouldered his debt.

Yugi, Anzu and Honda arrive together. I know that I must face them, yet I'm unable to get up from my seat of honor. Instead I stare down into my lap, pretending that I hadn't noticed them.

"Jounouchi-kun?" Yugi's voice is tentative, and I look up to see him hovering over me with concern. I stand up, awkward in my shoes.

"Yu-" I manage, before he envelopes me in a bear hug, and cuts off my oxygen supply. I hug him back and it feels good.

"Jounouchi, I'm so sorry! Why didn't you tell us?" The words pour out muffled into my shoulder. "You know we're always here for you." He admonishes gently, before stepping back. Anzu is there to take his place.

She hugs me tightly. "We've missed you, Jounouchi." Her body shakes against mine and I realize that she is crying, but doing her best to disguise it. "Why didn't you call?" She asks, her voice thick with emotion. I'm having a hard time holding it together myself at this point. The love my friends have for me is so palpable, and I feel so undeserving of it. I bury my face in her silken hair and let the tears flow.

"I'm sorry, Anzu, it's just been so crazy these past few months."

I feel a hand at the small of my back. "Katsuya-kun, are you okay?" Tomi asks quietly, he's rubbing my back in soothing circles. I close my eyes and nod my head; Anzu pulls away, her eyes riveted to him.

"Hi-" Anzu extends her hand.

"Tomoki," Tomi says, quickly taking her hand. "I'm Katsuya's friend."

"His ... friend." She states skeptically, apprising him.

Before I can say anything to alleviate the awkwardness, Honda has enveloped me. "Dude, I really am sorry." He says quietly. Of all my friends, Honda knew the most about my father's situation. He'd always been steadfast in guarding my secrets from everyone else, and the betrayal I feel toward him is the most acute. "But where the hell have you been? And where's Shizuka?"

Shizuka is a safe subject. "Shi-chan is on holiday abroad with our mother, Hon. I couldn't get in touch with them." Tomi casually wraps his arm around my waist. While my friends know that I'm gay, I'm still uncomfortable at Tomi's display.

Honda eyes me warily. "So, how come you've made yourself so scarce, Jou?"

I begin to protest, but am interrupted. "Perhaps he's got better things to do than hang out with the geek patrol." A cold chill runs through me as I recognize that voice.

"Stuff it, Kaiba!" Honda hisses.

"Honda, shush, we're here for our friend, and Kaiba's here for the same thing, aren't you?" Anzu mollifies. I shift my position and glance at Him. It dawns on me that He was supposed to be away on business.

He gazes at Anzu impassively before nodding his head. And then those blue eyes are boring through me. "So who is your boyfriend, Jounouchi?" Although it's subtle, I recognize the change in the tone of His voice. He's pissed, and my mind starts to reel. I forget that I am at my father's wake, and instead, I concentrate on how bad it will be the next time He sees me. Tomi instinctively tightens his grip on me.

Haha steps in. "Kaiba-san," He says warmly, laying a hand on His arm. "I'm so glad that you could make it, may I speak to you privately?"

He stares down Haha for a few moments, before saying curtly, "But of course." I watch Them walk out of the room, and wonder what Haha could possibly say that is going to literally save my ass.

"That was weird." Honda comments. I need to change the subject, fast.

"My uncle must have called him." I say quickly, letting the lie settle over us. I see Yuugi and Anzu have bought it, but Honda is not satisfied.

I feel lightheaded, but I grit my teeth and continue. "I've been staying with Him, and I met Tomi there." I place my hand reassuringly over his and remove his arm from my waist.

"Katsuya, you don't look well, I think you should sit down," he says. I know he's right, but I can see the fire in Honda's eye. I have to convince him that everything is on the up and up; his suspicions could be dangerous. No, scratch that. They are dangerous. I glance at the doorway, I can see Kaiba's ramrod straight back; He's listening intently to something that Haha is telling him. I break out into a cold sweat.

"Jou," Honda says. "If you're in trouble, you have to tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what's going on."

"Oh, are you gonna give me dating tips?" I try to lighten the pall that's settled over the reunion, but it's useless I realize too late. My father is dead, my life is a mess, and my friends, who would do anything for me, cannot help me out of this. Suddenly my knees are weak, and I feel them slowly buckling. "Sit down," I gasp. I feel that I'm drowning; I try to take great gulps of breaths.

Tomi gently leads me to my seat, but before I can reach it, my vision goes white.

* * * * *

I come to inside a beautifully appointed limousine, certainly not the one that I arrived in. My legs have been elevated on the bench, and my head is in someone's lap; I look up into Kaiba Seto's blue eyes.

"What-"

"You fainted." He says flatly. "I carried you here for some privacy."

"Shit." My memory returns; I'm at my father's wake. It all comes back to me.

"Jou?" Yuugi pokes his head in the open door.

"He's awake," Kaiba says evenly. "Can you get Jounouchi some tea?" I see Yuugi's puzzled expression fade. Someone closes the door, and we are alone. I try to get up. "Tomi-"

Kaiba's lips curve into a cruel smile. "That's his name?" Shit. I am so screwed now. He must sense my near-panic. "Don't worry. Haha explained it all to me. We've come to an understanding."

I want to ask Him what that means, but I'm afraid to press.

"Do you think you can stand up?" I nod my head. "Let me get out first, then I'll help you." I sit up, but before I'm completely upright, His face descends on mine, and He ravishes my mouth. It is a toe-curling kiss, and before it registers that it is Him kissing me, I respond. Before I know it, my hands are caressing His silken hair, and His fingers are loosening the buttons on my shirt. He puts the brakes on suddenly. "This is neither the time nor place," He says sheepishly. "But don't worry, we'll pick this up the next time you see me." He adds, as he pats down my shirt and straightens my tie, before grooming Himself. He knocks on the near window, and momentarily the door is opened. He slides out gracefully, and I follow. My head is spinning; I feel vaguely like I've been cheating, but I'm confused as to who I've been cheating on. Before we head back to the room, He stops me. "Jounouchi, out here ..." He falters, and I tilt my head closer. "Away from the teahouse ... " It's kind of endearing to see Him at a loss for words. I nod my head.

"Listen, Kaiba," I say, my voice growing bolder with each syllable. "Thanks, man, it means a lot that you showed up." I say that with more sincerity than I meant. He escorts me back toward the room, His hand on the small of my back. Some of my father's friends have shown up, and from their furtive glances and lecherous grins, I am clued in to how many people are complicit in my secret. Now it's my turn to falter. Kaiba steadies me, and I lean against Him, letting some tears stain the shoulder of His suit. Something to remember me by, I think morosely. He holds me stiffly for a moment, and then guides me back to the front of the room, and the safety of my friends. Haha has seated Himself once again, and He watches me alertly.

I see that my friends have accepted Tomi; he is standing amidst them, talking quietly with Anzu. Honda is scanning the room for me, and he visibly relaxes when he sees me.

"We were getting worried, are you okay?" He asks, genuinely concerned. Yuugi appears with a thermal cup, steam escaping from the vent of its cover. He offers it to me, his brow knitted. Kaiba steps away and I miss His presence. He is talking to Tomoki, whose face is a mask of worry.

"I'm fine, guys," I lie. "I just didn't eat much this morning, I was too ... distracted."

Honda puts his arm over my shoulder and hugs me. "You'd tell me if something was wrong?"

"Yes, Hon, of course I would. Ya still my best bud." I smile weakly. "Nothing will ever change that." I say it like I truly mean it, and hate myself.

The rest of the ceremony is a blur. I know that I should concentrate on the moment; this is my father's farewell, but the truth is, I said good-bye to him long ago. The shell that rests in the casket means nothing to me, he wasn't the man who'd started out raising me, he was a mere parody. When the time comes for the cremation, I place the two things that he held most dear in his life inside the casket; a pack of cigarettes and a fifth of whiskey. As an afterthought, I remove the photo that had been placed in there. It is a framed picture of my family before the divorce. My mother must have sent word to whoever had arranged the funeral. Though, as the eldest son it was my task, she must have deemed me unfit. I stare at it until tears blur my eyes. I'd always remembered the time before my mother left with Shizuka as idyllic; sure my parents fought, but it didn't seem like they fought any more than our neighbors did. But I see now from their body language that they were miserable. While 'Zuki and I are standing next to each other practically entwined, they stand apart behind us, fake grins plastered on their faces. I sigh, clutching the picture, and turn away.

Tomoki hugs me tightly, and then Anzu is touching my face. "Everything is going to be okay, Jounouchi," she soothes. Her eyes are tear-filled too. I wish that I could believe her, but I know that isn't true. I see Kaiba leave, I wish that He'd said good-bye, but that would have raised suspicions, I suppose. Or perhaps He just doesn't care enough. "Call us sometime?" She asks, and I focus back on my friends.

"Yeah, dude. Don't be such a stranger," Honda chimes in.

"We miss you," Yuugi adds. "How long will you be staying with your uncle?" I'm overcome with emotion; the day has taken its toll. I lean on Tomoki for support, once again grateful that he is here with me.

"For a while," Haha chimes in. "He has to take care of some family business now. Katsuya-kun, it's time to go." He adds blandly.

"I'll be in touch," I manage, turning away quickly toward the waiting car.

"Promise?" I hear Anzu ask as the door closes behind us.

I lose it then. The grief, mixed with relief and my confused emotions is just too much. I lean against Tomi and sob like a baby. I'm still crying when we arrive at the teahouse, and as if I'm dreaming, I hear Haha instruct Tomi to bring me to an empty bedroom. The charity is not lost on me.

Once there, Tomi secures the door and turns to me. I'm standing in the middle of the small but richly appointed room, completely numb, completely spent. I don't know what to do. Carefully he begins to disrobe me, laying the articles of clothing carefully across the back of a chair. He leads me to the bed, and then undoes my trousers; I feel like a child, his ministrations are comforting. When my pants pool at my feet, he sits me down on the bed, then kneels down and unties my shoes, removes them, then my socks, and finally my pants and under shorts. I stare at him in wonder; I've yet to fuck him, but over the course of the past few weeks of training we've become intimate on other levels. I have penetrated him with objects and my fingers. I watch with growing interest as he gets undressed; he never takes his green eyes off of me.

Something is changing between us. I feel a connection growing as he straddles me. His skin against mine soothes like a balm; he whispers huskily, "Katsu-chan, I'm here for you." He wriggles against my crotch, and electricity tingles along my nerves. I'm becoming hard. "Fuck me, Master." He mewls softly. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and bucks against me. "I want to feel you inside me."

I groan wantonly. I need to fuck him. I've been holding back until now, but I feel my control slipping. "Get some lube," I rasp.

He leans over to the bedside table, and I take the opportunity to latch onto one of his soft pink nipples. A needy moan escapes him, "Feels ... so ... good," and I smile against his skin. His erection presses against my stomach, averring his words. I grab him by the hips to steady him, and continue my torment of the now pebble-hard nub. He presses the tube between my fingers. "Please?" He begs in a harsh whisper. I lay him down on the bed, and I'm half on top of him. I work some lubricant onto my fingers, and press at his entrance. I know he's not yet ready, but I need him now. The slickness helps my fingers past his tight ring of muscle, and he keens as he bucks against them. I've found his pleasure spot and he arches his torso in rhythm with my hand. I take the opportunity to work on his other nipple while lazily thrusting in and out of him. I feel him loosening up, and I pull out only to position myself between his legs. I pause for a moment, to give him the opportunity to stop me. He nods his head and whispers. "I want you to."

I bury myself in his tight heat and pound into him. In my mind, I'd always imagined that when I did take him, I would be in control, but for now I can only satisfy the voice in my head that cries out 'I need.'

As I pump into him, I wrap one hand around his cock and stroke it. The thumb of my other hand presses at his mouth and when he surrounds the digit and caresses it with his tongue, I feel my orgasm crest and break over me in waves. And suddenly, he is coming too. When he is done, I pull out of him and lie down next to him. I'm still feeling aroused, despite my recent orgasm. I gently kiss his lips, pressing my tongue against them, he allows me entrance, and soon we are both becoming hard again. Now that I've broken down the last wall between us, I begin to worry about what will happen to us. I can't imagine that my Master will allow this to continue.

* * * *

Two days pass before Haha calls me to His office. He has two small packages on the table in front of Him. "These arrived for you." He says, sweeping His hand over the table. I know that they cannot be from my father's estate; he'd given up all of our personal belongings long ago, and I wonder if they could be from Him.

I open the first; it is another book, this one titled You Can't Go Home Again. How fucking appropriate, I groan inwardly. The other package is an elegant black box; I am stunned at its contents. I pick up the cards gingerly, as if they are a priceless treasure. And they are to me. It is my deck-in it's entirety. Not a facsimile, but my actual cards. I recognize certain dog-ears and worn spots. At the bottom of the deck there are five new cards; Black Dragon Chick, Lord Of D, Red Eyes Darkness Dragon, United We Stand, and Reinforcements, all excellent additions to my deck, and all cards that I've coveted at one time or another. There is no note, but I really don't need one; I feel a tear trickle down my cheek at His gesture. I gape at Haha, and He smiles benignly. He nods His head indicating that I am free to speak.

"Tomi-" I manage to choke out.

"Ah, yes. You are free to continue his training. Kaiba-san and I have reached an understanding." The hair on the nape of my neck stands up as I recognize that that is the exact phrase that He used. But I'm unable to question Haha further. He dismisses me.

"You may go now, don't forget your book."

*****

I've been instructed to put on the neatly folded clothes that Haha has given to me and to report to the entrance of the teahouse. There, a car is waiting for me. As I inspect the clothing, a thrill runs down my spine; it is definitely fetish wear, but nothing that a slave would don.

I slip on the black mesh and leather tee shirt, leaving the laces open at my throat; the friction of the slinky material against my nipples causes them to harden and peak. The butter-soft, black leather pants are replete with straps; it takes me a few minutes to figure them out. They are incredibly sexy and fit me like a second skin. There is a 4" gap in each thigh, where only two 2" straps hold them to the lower pants legs. Heavy-soled Doc Martens and a thick studded leather belt that hangs low on my waist complete the ensemble.

I eagerly assume that it is my Master who has freed me from the teahouse for the evening, and I'm excited to be out; though for all I know, He could have me performing at one of the many private functions that He hosts. At least though, that would take my mind off of Tomi. Tonight he has been offered to a guest, and I'm angry and jealous. I don't want anyone else touching him, and though I knew this day would come, that knowledge hasn't made it any easier.

I look at myself in the floor-length mirror in the front vestibule, and play around with my hair until it is the perfect combination of mussed and unruly. I have to admit that I look hot tonight, and I feel good about that. It has been too long since I've felt Kaiba Seto's lustful gaze burning my skin; I've missed him, but I'm still more than a little worried about what he will do to me for my indiscretions with Tomi. I don't think I could bear to lose my slave, though, of course, I know that I will have to accept that inevitability. I certainly can't add his debt to mine. The only other option is to share him with my Master, which is almost as unappealing. What if ends up that He would want Tomi more than me?

His driver opens the passenger door of the limo, and I clamber in, expecting to see my Master waiting for me. I'm disappointed that he's not there. The door clicks closed securely, and I sit stock still and alone on the bench, gazing out through the tinted window as I'm taken away into the night.

We stop on a side street in the warehouse district. It's a desolate area at night, and fear begins to creep into my belly. I worry that, somehow, I've outlived my usefulness, and that this is the end. But before it can fully take hold, the car inches past a line of people-club-goers-and stops at the front of the queue. The passenger door is opened, and the face of a bouncer peers in.

"Jounouchi-sama?" For a second I think he is addressing my father-no one has ever used honorifics towards me-then it registers, he is speaking to me. I nod my head dumbly.

"Come with me, and I will take you to your table." He offers me a hand out of the limo, and then escorts me past the velvet rope. I hear a murmur run through the gathered crowd, and do my best to ignore it as the club doors miraculously swing open for me. "This way," he says. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim blue light inside. The air inside the club is refrigerator-cold, and the beat of the music is heavy and loud. We skirt a huge dance floor that is writhing with bodies and I sway to the beat as we make our way to a row of private banquettes.

I see that He has found me; His eyes lock with mine, and my skin tingles. I almost look away, He is my Master after all, but then I remember that we are in a public place. I smile at Him, and He smiles back at me appreciatively. I shiver under His predatory gaze. I slide around the curved bench until I'm seated next to Him. He dispenses with any pleasantries and ferociously attacks my mouth. My lips are crushed between His teeth and mine, and the taste of my own blood mingles with His unique flavor. I can tell that He's been drinking, there is a sweet undertone. I press against Him wantonly, reveling in being in his arms. When He lets me up for air, I whisper into His ear, "I've missed you."

He pulls away from me, His expression unreadable. Then He places His lips next to my ear. "Liar. I know you've had someone else to warm your bed." The hair on the back of my neck stands up, but then he whispers, "Don't worry. The idea of watching you fuck someone else turns me on." He nips my ear roughly. "And so does the thought of you being fucked up the ass by your lover while I fuck your mouth," he adds. Surprise, surprise, I wonder what wouldn't turn him on. He moves down my neck and suckles my collarbone hungrily. God, he makes me feel so good, so needed. I thread my fingers through his soft hair and then tilt his face up to mine. I stop for a second, because I know I'm treading dangerous waters here, but the lust in his half-closed eyes serves as a catalyst and I capture his lips. I ravish his mouth, and his compliance spirals my own lust to new heights. I close my eyes and images of me fucking him-his head thrown back in ecstasy-torment me. But, when he opens his eyes, they are green, like Tomi's. I come back to reality for a second, gasping. He pulls me tighter to him and I run my fingers over his shirt, the heat of his skin is radiating through it. The material is exquisite. As my hand slides over his chest, I feel his hard nipples through the thin fabric. I duck my head against his chest and tongue around the nub, smiling against his arching torso. He lets me continue my delicious torture, and I feel puffs of his ragged breath ruffling my hair.

"Let's dance," he says finally, breaking the spell, and before I know it, he's pulled me to the floor. I don't know how long we grind against each other; the beats change from time to time; but our dance is always the same. We are having sex with our clothes on; I can't keep my hands or eyes off of him, and I'm starved for the glimpses of skin that I see when the hem of his shirt lifts above his low-rise pants, revealing the sculpted planes of his abdomen. After a while, we are both drenched from the effort, and he leads me back to the banquette. A waitress swings by, but I miss what he's ordered for me.

I'm sweaty, but the cool air is flowing through my sheer shirt. I nuzzle against him, my lips on his neck. A thin film of sweat mixes with his exquisite cologne. I bite him none-too-gently and then soothe the injury, lazily licking circles on his neck. He tilts his head to give me better access and slides a hand underneath the gap in on of the legs of my pants. His palm traces circles on my inner thigh.

He stops and hands me a drink. Gin and tonic; I know before it touches my lips-the scent of juniper berries reminds me of my father. I've never touched the stuff; I've always been wary of alcohol, but the hint of evergreen also reminds me of one summer when my family went camping in Nikko National Park and hiked among the evergreen forests. It is one of few happy childhood memories I have, and I allow it to crowd out the more recent ones of drunken binges and stale cigarette smok. I down it quickly; the bitterness of the quinine is refreshing.

I feel the affects of the potent alcohol almost immediately, and emboldened by them, I latch onto the lobe of his ear. After toying with it for a bit, I whisper, "Y'know what turns me on?" Without waiting for his response, I answer my question. "The idea of fucking you." He responds almost immediately, by roughly pushing me away.

I'm in deep shit now, I think, and I'm afraid once more to meet his eyes. When I finally look up he is gone, and I'm thrown into a near-panic. I expect the bouncer to come along at any moment and unceremoniously drag me out to the curb. I search the crowd, and finally spy Kaiba in animated conversation with someone guarding a door. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a wad of bills, and then heads back toward our table, corralling the waitress along the way.

When he gets back to the table, he grabs me roughly by the arm. "Let's take this somewhere ... more private," he breathes into my ear, and my cock twitches involuntarily. He. Doesn't. Mean? His tongue laves my ear and tickles the lobe, and then he's found the sensitive spot behind the shell. I close my eyes, allowing myself the luxury of the moment. And then he's dragging me across the dance floor toward the door that he'd been standing at a few minutes earlier. The man guarding it tips his head at Kaiba as he lets us through and closes the door. It is a VIP lounge of sorts, empty except for us. He pushes me onto a velvet couch that is set behind a low wall; I nearly smack my head into a thick glass tabletop as I lose my balance. I notice two drinks have been placed on that table. He's on top of me before I have a chance to right myself, his hands raking over my chest.

"You were saying?" he murmurs quietly, his eyes boring through me. His lips remain slightly parted, and I'm mesmerized by the tip of pink tongue that I just see behind his perfectly even white teeth.

There's no turning back now. I know damn well he heard what I said. I grab his head and pull him to me, crushing our lips together, I feel his cock pressing against my own erection, and electricity sparks between us when he moans softly into my mouth. I ravish him; our teeth gnash together and slowly I work on leveraging my body enough so that I can roll on top of him. It is no easy feat, but I manage it, and after a few minutes of persistence, I have him pinned under the weight of my body.

"Want. You," I gasp before setting to work on the buttons of his shirt. He's far too overdressed for my overheated libido. He grabs my hands roughly.

"Fine, but you don't have to destroy the shirt." He shrugs out of it and then he works feverishly on the belt I'm wearing, while I pull my shirt over my head. I take the belt from his hands, quickly catching both wrists in a loop. He looks up at me in surprise, but he doesn't fight me while I bind them, even though his eyes challenge me. For a second I think about bolting, but he looks too damned sexy that way-how can I pass up this opportunity to dominate him, to screw him senseless? And then, there is Tomi. If I'm half the master I claim to be, I would never abandon him. I untie Kaiba's shoes and then undo his pants and roll them off his hips. Neither of us wore under shorts. He lays back, his arms over his head. He knows how good he looks, and isn't beneath flaunting it for me. My pants are way too tight; I unbutton the top two buttons of my fly and readjust myself. I watch him lick his lips when he spies the head of my shaft peeking out.

"Like what you see?" I ask, and I play with myself a bit, then wipe a bit of the pre-cum off my crown and rub it onto his lips. He lowers his eyes and I see them glitter through the fringe of his lashes. Slowly his tongue works over the pink flesh, lapping up my cum. He'd make such a good slave, I think.

"Did you come prepared?" he asks as my hands drift down his torso. I'm stopped in my tracks, and he laughs mockingly. "I did," he exhales. I look at him questioningly and he nods towards his pants. "You'll find what you need in one of the pockets."

I freeze again. The temptation to run is stronger than ever. I know he's got a wallet and probably a ton of cash in there, probably enough for me to live on for quite some time. But something holds me back-he does-or rather, my desire to fuck him. I know this window of opportunity is closing fast, but my mind betrays me; I remember our literate conversations over the past few months and ... my cards. He got me back my deck, that singular act binds me to him. Or, maybe I am just the make inu that he was fond of calling me-his loyal pet.

"Are you having second thoughts, or just figuring your odds?" he asks as if he's reading my mind. I detect a strain in his voice. This is a test, but I'm not sure who's being tested. I know he's always been prone to tempt the fates, but the position I could leave him in would be far more than embarrassing; being bested by a common whore, and the lurid details of our relationship, would play well in the media. People love to see their idols' feet of clay. I wonder how printed pictures of the CEO trussed and naked in some exclusive club would affect the Kaiba Corp bottom line. I smile at the thought.

"What's the matter, you in a hurry?" I bluff, reaching for his pants. I find the lubricant-vanilla flavored-and rub a prodigious amount on my hand. As I find his entrance he visibly relaxes, and as my fingers press into his channel, I lean forward and tease his nipples with my tongue. I thrust into him slowly, feeling every inch of his silky walls; he groans softly and arches his back, pressing his chest harder against my mouth. My hard-on is begging to be freed. I kneel back on my haunches for a second and admire him in all his sensuous beauty. I'm going to fuck him like there's no tomorrow because, for all I know that may be true.

"Look at me!" I order, and his head snaps to attention. "That's a good pet," I nod. Now that I have his undivided attention, I begin to slowly undo my pants and unfetter my erection. I striptease for him and then I play with myself. He sighs quietly. His eyes are glued to my hands. "I'm not boring you or anything, am I?" I ask with a smile on my lips. I already know the answer to that. He shakes his head slowly. His eyes are almost all pupil, and his erection is massive. I don't think I've ever seen him this aroused. It's a shame I have no toys to use on him. Well, I've got one. I coat my shaft with some more lube and spread his legs wide. His skin is rosy with blood; he is glowing ethereally. I line my cock up with his entrance, and slowly but steadily push into and through his ring. He is trembling now; his skin is inflamed with desire, and I can't help but run my hands over his body wantonly. It's a rare occasion when he's allowed me to touch him at all and I want to memorize every plane and contour of his body; I might not get this opportunity for a long time to come.

I place my hands on the back of his thighs and push his knees up toward his chest. He is wide open for me, and I thrust into him deeply and pull out again easily. I change my angle and he gasps, his eyes widening impossibly. I flash a brilliant smile at him; I'm massaging his prostate with each thrust, and I have the feeling that he's never had this experience before. His skin is covered with a fine film of sweat, and he is panting and grunting in unison with my thrusts. I know that I can't hold on too much longer to my own impending climax; I let the exquisite feelings curl over me, and bask in the heat that radiates from low in my stomach and causes my dick to swell even more while buried deep within his tight passage. I come suddenly, taking great pleasure in knowing that he is still hard and needy. I pump his shaft a couple of times with my vanilla-scented hands, then pull out of him and take his sex into my mouth.

"Nng," he groans and I hum around his erection. The response is spontaneous and instantaneous. He empties his load into my mouth, and I greedily lap it up.

I push up off of him, grab my drink and down in one chug. I can't believe that I just fucked Kaiba Seto, and it was good. Damned good. I feel his hands land hard against my shoulder, and without thinking, I loosen the belt, and know that I've sealed my fate. Once his hands are free, he reaches for his drink and takes a deep draught from it. He pushes my wet hair off of my face and nuzzles me.

"I have to get you back to the teahouse," he says and I stiffen as reality comes back to bite me in the ass. That's right; I'm just his whore, and for all I know, he'd carefully choreographed every aspect of this evening, right down to how we would make love. "You didn't expect things to change between us, did you, Jounouchi," he says rather than asks.

I shrug my shoulders noncommittally. What was I expecting? That he would rescue me like some romantic lead in the movies? Sweep me off my feet with platitudes of love? Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I did. But that is beside the point; I'm pragmatic enough to know that he will never be my knight in shining armor.

He stands up and dresses, and after a couple of minutes, I do the same. I smell his sex on me, and find it incredibly arousing. I look around the room, memorizing its details while lacing up my shoes.

The crowd has thinned substantially by the time we leave the VIP lounge. He takes my hand in his and leads me toward the door. When we get outside we have to wait a few minutes while he dials for his car. I thought the guy would be just waiting here all night, but what do I know. Suddenly, I'm being propelled into the air; I land hard on my side, and my face smacking on pavement makes a sickly noise. All hell is breaking loose above me. I hear the bouncers yelling; there is a great struggle, and then Kaiba is pulling me to my feet.

"Are you alright?" he asks, brushing some street gravel from my clothes and inspecting my cheek. I'm sure there will be a terrific bruise there. I'm bewildered, and my face is in pain.

"What happened?"

"Do you know him?" Kaiba asks, and I turn around to face my assailant. I know him all right; it is the bastard yakuza who abused Tomi all those months ago. He sees me, wrestles a hand free from the bouncers who are holding him, and points a finger to his temple. I don't need to be a rocket scientist to interpret that sign. Suddenly, I feel very vulnerable, like the ground has shifted under my feet. Kaiba's limo pulls up, and he pushes me into the passenger seat and then closes the door. I'm alone, and can only watch the events outside the window as they unfold. It's as if I'm in a bad dream. Kaiba is toe-to-toe with the scumbag. He's yelling in Kaiba's face, and whatever Kaiba says in reply sends him into a frenzy. I'm afraid that he will break from the grip of the bouncers holding him and that he will be able to sucker-punch Kaiba the way he did me. That doesn't happen though, instead, Kaiba points his finger into the other's chest, and I see a shiver run through the tough guy. I could only image what he said to the bastard as he climbs into the limo, and sits heavily on the seat next to me.

"How do you know him, Jounouchi?" he asks, and there is a sense of urgency in his voice that scares me. I tell him everything; every sordid detail about that night. When I'm done, I wait for him to say something to me. We are in front of the teahouse, and I see a light come on, and Haha's visage is in the front doorway.

Kaiba looks at his watch. "Shit. I'm late," he says to himself, and then he finally turns to me. "I can't see you for a while," he says as he takes my hand in his. "You need to trust me on this, do you?"

"Trust you on what?" I say uncertainly.

"Trust that even though you don't see me, I will be taking care of you. You need to go now." He kisses me chastely on the lips, and the door opens.

Haha's voice sends chills down my spine. "Welcome home, Katsuya," he says, eying Kaiba warily. "Tomi's been waiting for you."

*****

Tomi clings to me on my mat. "Just hold me, please," he whispers, his voice barely audible. I cannot keep up the Master/slave façade while he is so pathetic, and though I feel that I am failing him as his Master, I wrap my arms around him and comfort him as best I can. He is not cut out for this life, and I wish that I could save him somehow, but I am as impotent as he is. I hate Haha for doing this to Tomi, and for making me care about him, but I know that the hatred is misplaced; it is whoever or whatever situation that forced Tomi to seek refuge here that is to blame, but I can't bring myself to ask him. That I love him, well, that's my own damned fault.

He is feeling much better in the morning, and we share a meager breakfast of rice gruel and tea in the garden. I expect Haha to summon me, but since my father's death, he's been curiously distant from me. Not that I mind, but any change in routine, for better or for worse, tends to set me on edge.

The next few times I see Him, He refuses to have sex with me, but we have a good time together nevertheless. We talk about the books I'm reading; He keeps sending them over, and I've discovered that I actually like to read. I regret all the time I wasted in school just wasting space, but that thinking is dangerous-it leads to the possibility that if I had been a better student, then there would have been a better outcome to my life than one of servitude. I know that isn't the case, though, because all the studying in the world wouldn't have prevented my old man from his slide into alcoholism and gambling, and I don't think any job I could have landed would have been able to fully subsidize his demons. I pointedly avoid thinking that if I'd somehow been a better son, then he wouldn't have been fallen so hard.

One day He actually cajoles me into dueling Him, and while I'm rusty, I think I still give Him a run for His money before he wipes out my life points. After He's gone, though, I cry like a baby. Dueling reminds me of the life I had, of all the could-have-beens.

And then suddenly, the books stop arriving, and He no longer comes to see me. I fall headlong into a depression, and I feel lower than I ever imagined; I'd thought that the first time I'd been taken for money had been the low-point of my life, but I realized now that I didn't care about my body being bought and possessed by some john. What He had managed to do was win my mind over too.

At about the same time, Tomi has found a regular client. While his training has long since been complete, Haha has never officially ended it, so we still sleep together, though now he is far too exhausted to have sex with me. His new master must have a voracious appetite for sex, and my mind taunts me that perhaps Kaiba has taken him on; that he's abandoned me for Tomi. I can't bring myself to ask Tomi, to confirm what I somehow sense is the truth. He now regularly comes to my mat freshly showered, but one night, I smell His cologne on Tomi's skin.

I grab him roughly and pin him easily. "Who's your new master?" I hiss. I don't care that his eyes widen in terror as he looks into my mask of anger. I've been had. Deceived. Lied to. Cheated on.

"It-it's not what you think, Katsuya," he cries out, and tears slide from his eyes, punctuating his confession.

"It. Isn't." I snort with disbelief.

"Pleasedonthateme!" he sputters, and as much as I want to, I can't. There is far too much water under the bridge between us for that. He tries to tell me more, but I scream at him. I don't want to know any of the details of their business relationship. I order him to never speak of his new Master again.

I can despise Kaiba Seto, and every time I know that he's been with Tomi, my hatred for him grows. He holds all the power, and his abuse of it is complete. I can't wait to throw that in his face the next time I see him. 'If there is a next time,' the mean little voice in my head mocks.

* * * * *

It has been months since I've seen Kaiba, so when Haha has me summoned to his office, I don't expect to find my Master there instead. No, he's no longer my master, I remind myself; he's abandoned me and taken on Tomi instead. Without saying a word to him, I turn on my heel and race back to my cell. I know that I'm behaving unacceptably and that Haha will punish me for this indiscretion, but still I throw myself down on the mat. Suddenly, the months of confusion, worry, pent-up frustration and, yes, jealousy catch up to me. I'm sobbing uncontrollably when he finds me.

"Jounouchi ..." he says softly.

I don't want him in my cell. I can't stand the thought of him seeing just how I live. He has more money than God, and me, I own nothing, not even the clothes on my back.

"You don't belong here. Get out, now!"

"Jounouchi," he says in a pained voice, "don't make this harder for me."

"Harder for you, asshole? I'm a fucking whore! How much harder could it be for you?" He is no longer my master, so I will speak freely. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Is this just another sick mind game of yours?"

"You are not a whore!"

"What, didja have a stroke, or just get stupid or something? You pay ta have sex with me! It's called prostitution."

"I don't see you as-as that, anymore. You aren't a whore," he repeats quietly. "Why do you think I stopped sleeping with you? I didn't want to pay you for that. But think for a second, Jounouchi, no one's been able to have you since-"

I look at him, utterly shocked. This can't be for real. "An' I'm supposed to be grateful, or something? Fah being your little concubine, huh? Sorry, no." I see him cringe slightly.

"I bought the teahouse." That stops me cold. He isn't content to just own me; now he owns the entire fucking building that shelters me.

"I'm leaving," I say. I get up from the floor and try to get by him, but he blocks me. I glare at him, feeling like a caged tiger. I whirl around. "You are so fucking sick it isn't funny," I spit. He just stares back at me impassively.

"Are you through?"

"No! Me? I'm just getting started. This has been one long mind fuck, Kaiba. First you fuck me, and then you make me read all those stupid books-classics my ass. What the hell was that all about? Then you abandon me. And now I find out you've been fucking Tomi, and ya didn't have the guts ta tell me."

He doesn't seem surprised that I know what's been going on. "So what? You have too."

"That's different. I'm not paying him, I've been training him." 'For you,' I add, in my mind. God, I wonder if that sounds as lame to him as it does to me. Kaiba smirks. The bastard actually smiles. So I shove him. Hard. That should get his fucking attention.

I'm not surprised when he grabs me, but instead of beating the shit out of me, he crushes me in an embrace.

"Listen to me," he says raggedly. "At first I wanted to humiliate you, Katsuya." I don't remember giving him permission to use my first name. "But after a while ... something happened. You never once asked for pity, never once asked for my help. You accepted your fate ... with dignity. I always thought you were just another moron, but here in this degrading place, you showed me what you were made of. You and I aren't so different, Jounouchi. We're both too proud to ask for help."

I struggle to get free, so that he can't feel my body betraying me. I hate him more right now than I think I ever have, but I hate myself even more because I still want him. I still love him, and it makes me feel weak and disgusted with myself. The smell of his cologne reminds me of the last time we were together, when he let me top him. My nerves tingle with the memory of his sweat-soaked body underneath me, his eyes glazed over in the throes of passion. He pushes me back suddenly, and I fall to the floor, hard.

"What I'm trying to tell you is that I've fallen in love with you," he says, his voice tinged in resignation. He's more fucked up than I ever imagined, to have fallen for me, a common whore. "I thought that I wanted to humiliate you, but when I made you my slave and had you do all my bidding, I hated what I'd done. I wanted the old Jounouchi back. I missed the verbal sparring. I missed the fire in your eyes."

I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what he's telling me. "That's why I made you read," he continues. "You were such a lousy student, and it was such an audacious request, that I figured I'd piss you off enough for you to give me shit about it." I stare at him in disbelief. This is not happening; this has to be another one of his mind games. "But, you actually started to discuss the books with me, and when I talked to you ... It turned me on even more than ordering you around did. I wanted to know more about how you ended up here, and I knew you wouldn't tell me, so I did some digging. I found out everything, Jounouchi. And then I took care of it all."

"I didn't ask you to," I say finally. I don't want to owe him anything. I feel sick to my stomach with the thought that my debt has been bought. By him.

"That's the whole point. You didn't ask for any of this either. You did nothing to deserve it, but you accepted your fate to protect your family, just as I've always done the same to protect Mokuba." He takes a deep breath, and I remember how he fought us tooth and nail to win the right to face Pegasus and to free Mokuba's soul. Had that really been just a few short years ago? It seems like several lifetimes ago.

"I couldn't sleep with you anymore. After the night at the club, I couldn't stand the thought of meaningless sex with you because, for me at least, it was far from that." He sits down on the floor next to me, but I notice that he's still blocking my path to the door.

"So you fucked Tomoki instead?"

"I knew you were sleeping with him, so it made me feel closer to you. He knows why I did it, and through him, I've been able to make sure that you were okay."

"Oh really? Thinking that you abandoned me is okay?"

"He tried to tell you what was going on, but you wouldn't listen. You used your power over him to shut him up."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The night you found out. He'd wanted to tell you from the start, but I didn't think you would understand."

"I understand all right; you dumped me ta get your hands on his tight ass."

"No Jounouchi," he says slowly, as if he's talking to a mental patient, "That's not how it was at all. Don't you remember that I told you that I needed you to trust me? I trusted you that night. At first, I took him to be closer to you, but I knew that you were enamored with him, and I had to find out why."

I shake my head; in the interim I'd forgotten-not about the club and fucking him-but about what he'd said to me in the car. "You told me to trust you, and then you turn around and fuck him because you know that I am? Do you know how fucked up that sounds?" I say to cover my lapse.

"I did what I had to do." He looks at me then, and by God, I want to believe him. "If I didn't distance myself from you ... Well, let's just say that my indiscretion of taking you to that nightclub was not lost on that yakuza who was gunning for you. I had a history with him as well, and when he saw us together, I knew I was risking your life."

I shake my head. "You didn't hafta fuck him."

"You know that I have ... certain needs, Jounouchi," he says, and he's speaking to me again like I'm a mental patient.

'But I wanted to take care of them!' is what I want to scream at him. But it's so petty and childish; he owed me nothing. In fact, in his own sick way, he WAS taking care of me. My thoughts turn to that bastard who was the cause of it all, and I'm filled with rage. I want to kill him. I say as much and he laughs mirthlessly.

I look at him warily. "What happened to him?"

Kaiba smiles humorlessly, the cold grin of a predator. "I've become fond of Tomoki, and when he told me what had happened that night-the things he couldn't tell you-I made sure that piece of detritus would never hurt anyone again."

I don't want him to elaborate; his dark statement reminds me of why I'd always been more than a little frightened of him. I search for something, anything I can say to change the subject. "So, now that you own this place ... now what? I never pictured you as someone who'd dabble in the sex trade. Kind of lays to waste your squeaky clean image."

He smiles again, and this time it's genuine. "I'm far from squeaky clean; I just have enough hush money to buy anyone's silence. But, I've decided that this is no longer a sex operation. It will continue on as the authentic teahouse that was its front. I've absolved all the workers of their debts." I know that this is as close to charity as Kaiba Seto gets.

I remember then that he has told me that he loves me, and despite my jealousy that he's been sleeping with Tomi, a warm blush spreads over my body. I'm loved by a borderline sociopath, but I'm loved nevertheless, and that makes me feel good. I wonder if it's any indication of how sick I truly am.

"I want you to come live with me," he says finally. He brushes his hand along my cheek, and his touch sends sparks through my blood. I crave more. His fingers trace along my jaw. I close my eyes and lean into his touch. It feels so good, so right. I've missed him so much.

"What about ... us?" I ask softly.

"I've already confessed my love to you." I feel his hot breath on my face moments before his lips touch mine. He kisses me with great restraint before he pulls away. "But I want him too," he adds, almost as an afterthought.

I should be happy, but as I begin to digest what he's just told me, I feel bile rising up to my throat. "You disgust me," I say bitterly, and my anger grows when my words get no response from him. How could I have believed his words, even for a second? "I hate you, you greedy bastard," I add for good measure. He's not content with just me; he wants us both. Two whores to warm his bed. If I have any say, he'll get neither.

He shrugs and stands up, brushing the wrinkles out of his pants. "I guess I deserve that," he says, and his voice is tinged with sadness.

"Where the fuck are you going?" I hurl as he saunters out the door.

He turns to me one last time. "I'm going home. I wanted you to come with me," he shrugs his shoulders. "But you can live here as long as you want, or you're free to leave."

"Oh," I sneer, "and go where? I have NOTHING. You must love me boatloads if you can just walk away from me AGAIN without a fight," I add. I know that I'm goading him, but I'm beyond caring. I want to know that I'm hurting him. "You think I should be grateful because you want me to share you?"

He looks puzzled. "Share ... me?" he echoes. "I really didn't look at it like that; I thought we ... would all have each other. After all, we've both been sharing Tomoki, and we've been together, so what's the problem?" His frankness is disturbing. What he's suggesting is so ... not right. But, what he says next knocks me on my proverbial ass.

"You were his master, too, Jounouchi, and yet you would abandon him so easily? He loves you and is devoted to you, and you'd just toss him aside like a used tissue? I'm disappointed in you." He takes a sheaf of papers from the inside pocket of his jacket and drops them on the floor at his feet.

I search desperately for some hurtful thing to hurl at his receding back, but words fail me. What he's said to me cuts me to the bone. I roll over onto my stomach and bury my head in my arms. After awhile, I feel someone stretch out next to me. Tomi. "Go 'way." I sound like a petulant child, but my words have no effect; he only snuggles in closer. I feel a wetness on my cheek, and open my eyes to meet his sea green gaze. He's been crying. "What're you crying about?" I ask accusingly.

He casts his eyes down and shrugs his shoulders. After a while he says quietly, "Katsuya, I thought we could be happy together."

"Together. With him," I say bitterly. He nods his head.

"I know you love him, and he loves you. If it's because of me, I'll go." He's sobbing silently, but his body is shaking uncontrollably. Kaiba's parting words echo in my head. I hadn't been a good Master at all. But now, as I hold him in my arms, I know that I could never leave Tomiko behind here. If anything, he should be with Kaiba.

"I don't-" I want to say that I don't love Kaiba, that I love him. But that would be lying, because I do love Kaiba. It's a different feeling than what I feel for Tomi, but it is a connection just the same. "None of this is your fault, Tomi,' I soothe, "and it's going to be okay. I'll make sure of it." I stroke his hair gently while I consider our options.

*****

Tomi's breath evens out, and I can tell that he's fallen asleep. It must have been exhausting for him to carry around his secret. I should have let him tell me everything; I feel bad that my jealousy got in the way. I get up and rustle the papers that Kaiba left behind. I pick them up and unfold the documents; it's a single page contract, in triplicate, and a notification that a sizable sum of money has been left in a trust for each of us, no strings attached.

The very simple contract serves to kind of legalize our relationship; ultimately, I realize, he's willing to take care of both Tomi and I quite comfortably, whether or not this 'relationship' works out. Of course it is all based on confidentiality, I snort. Even when he's thinking with his dick, he's still able to figure a way to cover his ass. I have to admit that it's pretty impressive. I wander aimlessly through the familiar halls, at loose ends. I really don't know what to do. When I pass by Haha's study, he calls out to me.

"Katsuya, you're still here?" he asks, the surprise evident in his voice. I stand in his doorway. He looks handsome in his form-fitting charcoal suit, and I wonder vaguely what will happen to him now that he's out of business. It doesn't look like he's been packing up to leave.

"Yeah. How 'bout you? Are you staying on?"

He smiles darkly. "Do you really think that I could do anything else with my life?" His words are chilling despite his smile. "Don't worry, Katsuya. I won't force anyone into this life. There are plenty of willing participants." So he says, I think.

"Why didn't you leave with Kaiba-san?" he asks. I cast my eyes downward out of habit, and I shrug my shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it?" I shake my head. "Okay," he says softly. "Then how about you let me talk to you for a few minutes? Come, sit down." He beckons me to the chair opposite from the one he is sitting in. It feels unusual for him to be treating me as a peer, to say the least.

"Have you seen today's newspaper?" he asks. It's a rhetorical question; we were never allowed to stay current with the news, because we had too many high-profile clients. "There is an interesting article about a local gambling ring," he continues. "Apparently, it had been in operation for many years-the gambling was actually a front for loan-sharking. These mobsters, they had a habit of preying on the weak of mind-alcoholics, primarily." My ears prick up at that.

"You see, they would find an alcoholic stooge, and then systematically drain all of his assets away from him, all the while encouraging his habits with open-ended loans." He looks at me intently. "A real tragedy that; it seems that many families were affected, and even worse, the local police were on the take as well. It's rumored that they may have facilitated a slavery ring, where children were sold into prostitution, but no evidence has been found to support that." My body grows cold. I remember that, last year, when the situation with my father was getting desperate, I'd gone to the police with my story in hopes that they would take some action against the gang. It was shortly after that incident that my life had spiraled out of control and I'd ended up here.

"Anyhow, it seems that someone with a lot of pull managed to bend the ear of none other than the Prime Minister. Can you imagine all the heads that are rolling now that this institutionalized criminal behavior has come to light?" I'm too stunned to answer. Kaiba has a scorch and burn policy that is an awesome testament to his ... what ... ? His need to get what he wants at any cost? His bloodlust for revenge? No, that's not it; though I know that Kaiba has both those traits in spades, this action smacks of something else altogether. It is as if he is trying to set things right. No, that can't be, I think. There must be something more to it.

"Rest assured, there will be quite a shake up for the media to report on for months to come. Aren't you at all interested in who the head of this ring was?" He takes a neatly folded newspaper off of the table in front of us and holds it out for me. The sick pit in my stomach tells me that I shouldn't look-that I should leave now, disappear with Tomi and start a new life, away from Domino City and Kaiba Seto. But, I can't help but look. It is him-the crime boss to whom my father was indebted, the man whose threats to my sister have kept me enslaved here. But my eye is drawn to another picture-lower on the page-and the hair on the back of my neck stands on edge. It is a small item about one of the henchmen in the gang that had just been broken up, who has been coincidently found dead. I would recognize that face anywhere-it is the bastard that abused Tomi and who attacked me outside the nightclub. I skim the article. The reporter spares no lurid detail in his recitation of the facts; the yakuza was dressed in bondage gear, and strangled by a whip. Despite the fact that there was some blood found on the scene, from the position in which he was found, the police have ruled out foul play; rather, they believe he auto-asphyxiated himself trying to get off. All blood has been attributed to the deceased's sordid behavior.

" ... and every one of them have given signed confessions, which is quite fortuitous, because afterwards, all the evidence against them was destroyed in a warehouse fire." I catch the end of what he's saying, and tear my eyes from the newspaper. He allows what he's said to sink in. "There are no records left at all, Katsuya."

For some reason, I look at the fireplace beside me. I see there are new ashes in it, despite it being an abnormally warm night for early November. He catches me staring, and repeats softly, "None at all."

I let my shoulders sag. I have all the freedom I want. I could walk out that door with Tomi on my arm, and go to the Kame Game Shop where Yuugi would be happy to put us up until I figured out what to do. But he'd come looking for me, I know it. And what would I say? 'Stay away from me, ya psycho-freak?' Maybe for starters, but even as I try to imagine my life without him, I feel a deep hole opening in my heart.

"Now what do you suppose would drive someone to do all that, Katsuya?" I lock eyes with Haha, and for the first time I see something other than cruelty and impassivity in them-envy? It shocks me to the core. "Still have nothing to say?"

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" I ask finally.

Haha laughs. "I don't think any of this occurred to impress you, but perhaps to impress something upon you."

"Yeah, that no matter where I go, he'll find me? Should I just give up?"

"Katsuya-kun, tell me something. How did your life change here change after Kaiba-san found you and became your master?" I have to admit that it was far better having him for a Master and knowing that I wasn't going to be sold to the highest bidder on any given night. "He's always provided for you, ne? So, what he's offering you now, is it any different?"

"But he's just buying me! And Tomi, too!"

Haha laughs. "If he wanted to buy you outright, he could have done so months ago."

I think about that for a moment. "It still doesn't answer the question why he left me here month after month."

"That is something you will need to find out from him." He's speaking to me like a father would to his son-though in my wildest dreams, I couldn't imagine this as a topic of conversation in any parental heart-to-heart. It's hard for me to get past what our relationship has been up until this very morning. But, I realize sadly, that he's been more of a father figure to me than my old man ever was. In his own sick way, Haha has always looked out for me. How fucked up is that, I wonder.

"Are you still thinking only about yourself in this matter? You realize there are three people involved."

"Yes, well Tomi doesn't-"

"Doesn't what? Doesn't know the true nature of Kaiba Seto? Can you be sure of that, or is that just wishful thinking?" It never occurred to me that Tomi could ... love ... him too.

"But he didn't ask Tomi, he asked me!"

"Why do you think that is?"

"Why don't you stop asking me all these questions and just tell me?"

"Because I think you already know the answers. You're letting your own jealousy and feelings of worthlessness cloud your thinking, obscure what is right under your nose."

"This is insane, what he's asking. What he wants!"

"Uncommon, perhaps deviant, but far from insane." This, coming from a man whose self-ascribed nickname is Haha. I sink lower into my chair.

"And what happens when the media gets wind of it?"

"Is that really your problem? You know, you haven't once said 'no' because you think the idea of being with both Kaiba-san and Tomiko-kun is repulsive."

He's right, I sigh. Because, when I come right down to it, they both fulfill a need for me. Is it possible that it works that way for each of them? "I have to talk to Tomi," I say suddenly. "If I don't see you again ..." I want to say thanks, but is a thank you really in order, I wonder.

"Katsuya, do me a favor?"

"What?" I turn to him.

"When we see each other again, let's pretend that you've never met me." He already believes that my mind is made up.

I wake Tomi gently and roll him on his back. "Do you love him?" I ask. He blinks his eyes for a few seconds. "Tomi, do you love Kaiba Seto?" He looks away, unable to meet my eyes. "I need to know." He nods his head. "Why?"

"Why do you love him? And don't deny that you do, Katsuya," he admonishes. I realize then how unfair my question was.

"Come on, we're going," I say, pulling him up from the mat. "Get your things."

* * * * *  
We are pathetic, I think. Between the two of us, we have one bag full of belongings. We sit side-by-side in the taxicab-I had to borrow money from petty cash to pay for it-as it wends its way through the estates that border the outskirts of the city. Neither of us have much to say; we're both lost in our own thoughts. I bite my lip, worried that somehow his offer will be rescinded because I've refused him.

The taxi pulls up to a gated drive. "Want me to wait?" the driver asks dubiously.

"Nah, that's okay," I say with more confidence than I'm feeling. I pay him, and listen to the gravel crunch as he backs out and drives away.

I ring the bell, and after what seems to be an eternity, a voice rings out, "Business, please,"

"We're here to see Kaiba Seto."

I'm surprised when the voice responds, "Who may I ask is calling?" I figured I'd be told to beat it already. I tell the speaker our names, and we wait longer. Finally the gate swings open, and the disembodied voice instructs us to please proceed to the main house.

It is a long walk. I've never been on the Kaiba estate, so I'm unprepared for the sheer size of it. His wealth has always been an intangible; 'billion' is just not a number that I can accommodate from my existence. I've never seen a billion anything-except maybe grains of sand-and he's a billionaire several times over. Maybe being his harem isn't such a raw deal after all. Tomi grips my hand tightly; he looks awestruck, his eyes wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He looks incredibly kissable, too. First things first, I remind myself.

He's waiting for us at the door.

"What do you want, Jounouchi?" he asks. His arms are crossed over his chest and he is glaring at me from the top of his steps. He is the epitome of master, my Master.

I push Tomi in front of me, and I see Kaiba's gaze soften somewhat. "Do you love him?" I ask.

Kaiba bristles at my question and he stares hard at me. "What's it to you?"

"I need to take care of him, remember?" He swallows hard and nods.

"So I take that as a yes?" I'm not letting him off the hook that easily.

He looks at me again with his unfathomable artic eyes and says, "Yes. I love him." He turns to Tomi. "I love you," he says softly. Tomi squeezes my hand.

"I love you, too, Seto." Tomi whispers.

Kaiba turns to me. "And what about you Katsuya, do you love him?"

I stare at Kaiba evenly. "Yes, I do." I turn to Tomi, "You know that though, doncha?" He smiles at me and my heart clenches. How could I ever have considered doing this without him?

"And me?" Kaiba asks, and I imagine that I hear a waiver in his voice. I realize then, that he has put his heart on the line today. He hadn't believed that my love for him was a foregone conclusion, the contracts, the trusts, while not romantic, were his way of proving the sincerity of his emotions. I know that he will never be an open book, and I will have to interpret his actions as acts of love, but I don't know if I could love him any other way.

"Yeah," I say, and he lets the breath that he was holding out. "So, do you have a pen?"

"A ... pen?" Kaiba asks, a puzzled look on his face.

"Yah, a pen. We've got this god-damned contract to sign, and then we have some business ta take care of."

Kaiba grins weakly. "Only you could be angry about signing a contract that leaves you very well off indeed. Come on into the study." He takes the bag that I've been carrying and places it carefully places it on a sidetable.

"I've got my reasons, but I plan to remedy that just as soon as the ink is dry." I'm already excited at the prospect of having my hands all over his gorgeous body again. Damn him for being so sexy. Damn him more for staying away from me for so long.

We follow him into the mansion, through the polished, black marble entryway and down the massive hall. I peer into exquisitely furnished rooms as we pass them by. We turn into a large room, filled floor to ceiling with books. He stands behind his desk and hands pens to Tomi and me.

"Yah sure this is what you want?" I ask Tomi, giving him one last chance to back out. But who would, after seeing this place? We all sign each contract, and it feels awkward afterwards; there's no celebration, yet the air is pregnant with unspoken sexual tension.

"Let me show you around." Kaiba finally says, breaking the silence.

He gives us a grand tour, and by the time we reach his bedroom-our bedroom-I'm ready to throw Kaiba on the bed and ravish him. I grab him roughly and kiss him deeply and Tomi joins us in the embrace, but Kaiba pulls away from us and cringes. "I can't," he gasps.

"Whaddya mean?" I panic momentarily, wondering belatedly if I've signed on to a life of celibacy.

"I'm ... injured." Tomi steps back from us uncertainly.

"Katsuya," he exclaims, "there's blood on Seto's shirt!"

I see a long line of blood on the fabric that stretches across his lower chest, and I reach for his buttons. I expect him to slap my hands away, but instead he stands there and allows me to undo his shirt and carefully remove it from his body.

His back is a lattice-work of angry welts and thin red wounds; I can tell immediately that he's been whipped fiercely by someone with little experience, or little care about the damage that they were doing. It's almost as bad as Tomi's beating was. I look over to Tomi; his face has taken on an ashen pallor. I pull him into an embrace to steady him.

"Did he do this to you?" I hiss.

"He who?" Kaiba asks, and then drops all pretenses. "Do you think I'd be foolish enough to admit to something like that?" He chooses his words carefully, "I did what I had to do, Katsuya," he says, and then adds, "and it was worth every minute."

"I told you he loved you," Tomi murmurs, he nestles his head under my chin, and I feel my pulse pounding in my throat.

"No, he loves us," I correct him. Kaiba can be a cruel bastard, and I'm a little afraid of him, but at the same time, a thrill courses through me. He did this for me. For us. I no longer have a past to be ashamed of or afraid of; he's erased it. Tomi rubs his body against me needfully; I'm acutely aware of how much I want him. I turn to Kaiba then, and rather cheekily say, "Well, just because you've injured yourself, it doesn't mean that Tomi and I have to suffer too."

I tilt Tomi's head upward and then kiss him, deeply. He responds immediately-he's become such a little sex kitten-and before I know it, we're half naked and well on our way to the bed. I feel Tomi's erection through his pants, and rub it leisurely, making a show of it for Kaiba. I catch the look on his face. Seto's eyes are blackened with lust, and I imagine that there is drool sliding down his chin.

"Tomi, I want you to fuck me," I say huskily, and I hear a low groan fall from Kaiba's lips.

"You sure?" he asks so eagerly. He's never topped, so I will need to direct him, but I get the feeling that Seto won't mind that at all.

"Mmm hm, I have it on good authority that our lover would really like to see that." I toe off my sneakers and step out of my pants. Naked now, I crawl upon the bed and face Kaiba on my hands and knees. "Have any lube?" I ask him.

Without taking his eyes off of me, his hand rummages in a drawer behind him, and he tosses a tube over to Tomi. Oh yeah, he's gonna like this show. My cock is already leaking pre-cum at the thought of him watching us. I smell the vanilla-scent of the lubricant as Tomi slathers it on his fingers.

He kneels behind me and caresses my ass with one hand, while the fingers of his other timidly circle my entrance.

"That feels so good, baby" I encourage. "Now slowly stick one finger in, just like I've done to you," I whisper hoarsely. I gasp at the sensation of his finger sliding in and arch my back enticingly. Seto has moved in front of my face; I can smell his sex through his trousers. He's most definitely turned on. "Why doncha make yourself comfortable?" I say between pants, "You're a little too overdressed." Tomi is quite the avid learner. He has a second finger in me before I've even directed him, and pretty soon he has me arching into each thrust; he's found my prostate and I close my eyes, letting the intense sensations wash over me in waves. He reaches under me and strokes my cock, and it's all I can do to keep from coming. I open my eyes to Kaiba's dick looming in my face and I smile up at him. "Want something?"

"You know it," he says, his voice practically a purr.

"Tomi, baby, I'm ready fah yah," I say before I take Kaiba's cock into my mouth. I know this is just what he's fantasized, and he's already dripping cum. I savor his metallic taste before deep-throating him. He gasps at the sensation, and then his fingers dance lightly over my face. Tomi slides into me hard and I push forward ever so slightly, my lips tightening around Kaiba's sex.

"Ngh," he manages. His hands leave my face then and I feel my lovers above me lean in toward each other; they are kissing and fondling each other while they fuck me. I'm beginning to feel a little neglected until Tomi pulls away and his hand is on my shaft once again.

"You feel so good, Katsuya. I've never felt anything like this!" he cries out, he's thrusting into me earnestly, and in turn, I'm giving Kaiba the blowjob of his life. Tomi's not used to the sensation of having his cock buried in someone else, and I can tell he's closing in on his climax. I rest my weight on one hand and push back against him; with my free hand, I fondle Kaiba's balls. I feel them tightening from my ministrations, and by god, I'm so close to exploding by the time he comes that it's all I can do to keep myself from injuring him. I swallow his essence greedily as Tomi comes deep inside me. He's pumping my shaft in earnest now, and I follow them close behind, my seed coating his hand. I drop to the bed, my body luxuriating in the aftermath of our mind-blowing sex. I could definitely get used to this. I open my eyes to see Seto grab Tomi's arm and I watch hungrily as he slowly licks my cum off of Tomi's hand. His blue eyes are riveted to mine, and I shiver under his gaze. Oh yes, I most certainly can get used to this.

I crawl up to the top of the bed and lay down heavily. The sheets and coverlet and pillows are extraordinarily soft. I close my eyes and shut my ears against the voice that tries to tell me that this is an impossible relationship to maintain; I've proven people wrong before, so why should this be any different? For the first time it dawns on me that we can make this work. Somehow. I begin to believe that we three have enough of a connection that will transcend the sordid way in which we became lovers. Seto slides into the bed gingerly and lies down behind me, curving his body around mine. And then Tomi joins us; he lies in front of me, facing me. They both twine their hands together and drape them across my hip. For the moment, I can't imagine anywhere else I'd rather be.


End file.
